The Journal of Aranel
by Kairi-senpai
Summary: The war of the Ring was over but her personal war had just begun.
1. Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

**A.N.: Welcome to The Journey of Aranel. Yes I know. The Tale of Kairi. Journey of Aranel. I'm not very creative with names. At the moment this seems like it's going to be a GlorfindelxOC. Please give me your support! **

**Disclaimer:**

**The Lord of the Rings and all prominent names and images featured are the copyrights and/or trademarks of New Line Cinema and the Tolkien Estate and are used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only. The author is making no money only happiness is made. This is unofficial and is neither sponsored nor endorsed by New Line Cinema and the Tolkien Estate. Any references made to real people are intended to be fictional. While some stories involve characters taking their traits and names from living, breathing men and women, the stories are merely imagined. No one claims that any part of any fanfiction is truthful, or meant to mirror reality. This is a work of amateur fiction, intended for amusement only, and I do not intended to cause any disrespect the actual people in any way. The archivists are not responsible for the content of any stories archived on Fanfiction (dot) net. They have neither written them nor individually approved of their content. Fan-derivative works, artwork and fan-created characters are the properties of their respective authors/artists. Please ask the author/artist for permission before using their work.**

**Chapter 1: The Journey Begins **

**Eyes narrowing, I surveyed the black dots approaching. The stench they carried had preceded them. The war had been over for a year yet small bands of Orcs still roamed. The dark gray cloak I wore fluttered in the wind. Raising my bow, I whispered into the air, to the others but mostly to myself:**

"**They are coming."**

* * *

><p><strong>Swallowing a mouthful of poppy infusion, I slowed from the canter I was in as I entered the city; the wound on my side was aching again. The insufferable arrow shaft thankfully was not poisoned but sadly was barbed. I attempted to remove the most I could but it was evident that a healer was needed. Once I was done talking to the king, I decided I would be off to the house of healing.<strong>

**It was either very early or very late, for me it was the later given I was up the entire night riding hard to get into the city. The dark was slowly waning, as the sun would rise within the hour. The wind chilled the sweat on my skin. Burrowing myself into my grey cloak, I swore when I remembered how dirty it was. The scent of Orc blood mixed with mud and sweat wasn't one that I was very fond of.**

**My back ached, old wounds stirred as I continued riding in the same position for hours. I sighed and tried to stretch, hissing as a sharp pain ran down the length of my spine. **

**As Legóviel trotted on, I took the time to take in my surroundings. It was six months since I last entered the city. It changed greatly from the broken city it was when I left. I admired once again, the resilience of the Gondorian people and the great leadership of the King. After the war they worked on repairing the damage as quickly as they could. Although many of the structures were not complete, they were patched up as cleanly as possible. I smiled grimly. Not even time could heal certain outcomes of war. The sound of sharp unmeasured footsteps pulled me out of my musing. **

**There was something peculiar on the streets an unescorted, seemingly weaponless lady walking aimlessly.**

'**Is she daft? Drunkards are the only types that roam at this time,' I thought. 'Well drunkards and me.'**

**True to my cynicism, I spotted a group of apparently drunken men on a bench half the block away. The scent of the stale ale drifted down the wind and unwillingly into my nose. Turning my attention away from them, I studied the girl more closely. My curiosity had been light aflame.**

**She was a noble lady judging by the way she carried herself and the quality of her wardrobe. Although she wore a dark cloak, the material was clean and gleamed with the sheen of high-end cloth; something relatively unusual given most spent their earnings repairing what was left from the war. Her boots too seemed new given the lack of scuffing and dirt on them. Her hood was up but her face peeked through.**

**There was no doubt that she was beautiful. She held a striking resemblance to the Queen but had a more youthful aura. Her eyes didn't hold the same wisdom but were wrought with childish curiosity. Shaking my head, I continued to watch her as she made her way down the ill lit street.**

**She walked around as if she were in awe. Head up, mouth parted, she silently gasped as she saw something new; a sign, a horse, a wagon. Unfortunately, she wasn't very aware of the rest of her surroundings. She fell unceremoniously over a barrel. Though she landed soundlessly on her hands and knees, the barrel fell with a 'thunk'.**

**She laughed aloud and stood, brushing off dust on her hands and knees.**

'**How foolish! Drawing attention to yourself like that!' My head whipped around to the men. One man had noticed. Lust gleamed in his eyes. The poor lamb held no knowledge of her danger. She knelt on the ground and began to tie an undone lace to her boot. The rest of the men, now fully aware of her, stalked over to her. Their movements weren't quite coordinated but they still managed to make it over.**

**One whistled, "Are you lost?" His voice was cold and full of mockery. He slurred his 's' making him seem like a vile snake.  
>The girl snapped up, laces forgotten. She took a step back, defensive.<strong>

"**No kind sir, I am not" she replied. Her voice shook as she answered. She had given them what they needed, a whiff of her fear.**

"**What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" another called. He had a disgusting smile on his face. His beaky nose twitched as he giggled repulsively. If there were a struggle, he would be the one I'd take down first.**

"**My business is my own," the girl said. Seeing that it was my time to intervene, I nudged Legóviel forward and placed a hand on my sword.**

"**Ah business I see. You are self-employed huh? Do you work in the bedroom scene? Well how much does it cost for a good-"**

"**Hold your tongue! Speak another word and I will have your head," I hissed.**

**The men looked taken back, eyeing me with a combination of anger and shock. I uncovered the hilt of my sword to show them that I was armed and serious. Dropping down onto the ground I walked over to the girl.**

"**You," I muttered "mount my horse, I will take you home." She looked like she was going to argue back but one steel-eyed look sent her scrambling to mount Legóviel.**

"**Be on your way men," I said. Turning around, I grabbed Legóviel reigns. I heard a shuffle of feet and the girl screamed. I smelt him before I felt his fist collide with my arm. Years of practice had honed my reflexes. I rolled off the punch and in respect I launched a series of well-placed blows, in his gut, nose, ear and groin. He crumbled to the ground, beaky nose releasing a stream of blood.**

**Angered at his downfall, his friends charged at me. It was folly; a battle hardened ranger fighting against drunkards. Although, they were down in minutes they had placed heavy handed blows on my already weary body. The ache from the traveling would have new companions from the bruises I gained in this fight.**

'**Bloody drunks,' I thought savagely. Smirking at their decrepit forms, I turned my attention to the girl. She looked shaken. Her pale grey eyes bore into my own.**

"**Are you alright?" I asked. She nodded trembling as she did so. Her eyes dropped down to me and widened.**

'**She's probably figured I'm a woman and is now in even more shock.' Due to the wound, I was unable to bind my chest like I normally had. She opened her mouth to speak.**

"**Your side!" she exclaimed. I looked down. The blood had thoroughly penetrated the cloth and the coppery scent wafted in the air. The adrenaline rush was beginning to wear off and the pain was doubling. Dark spots danced before my eyes. Shaking my head, I managed to clear it once more. I hissed aloud and cursed mentally in my mind congratulating myself for being a fool. My careless actions would give me a price to pay later. **

"**It was damaged before. Now let's move to the higher levels milady." She nodded and I mounted Legóviel behind her. Urging him into a brisk walk, we began our way back.**

* * *

><p><strong>I was trying my best not to curse in pain every time her elbow connected with my wound. There wasn't much saddle room for the both of us and I didn't have nearly enough energy to walk up Legóviel to her house. So we were stuck in this uncomfortable form. I tried the subtle approach of clearing my throat but that didn't seem to work.<strong>

**She seemed wary of my presence. Her back was stiff as we rode. If the stench of the Orc blood had bothered her, she hid it well. We rode in silence like this for a while, until she suddenly she began to speak.**

"**I was exploring the city," she began. "I've grown up in an environment that was very sheltered. Although I travel to Gondor often, I rarely leave the sixth and seventh level." Her voice was tired and cautious. She wanted to tell me more but seemed to be holding back. She didn't fully trust me. Like all nobles, she had to watch what she said.**

'**Gondorian nobility,' I mused shaking head. They were the worst bunch of uptight women I ever held the misfortune to meet. True, they calmed down once the Queen arrived but they were still unyielding in some of their practices. This girl had braids in her hair common to those who were betrothed; a complex tangle to knots that seemed to be pulling at her scull very tightly. Only someone very high class would pursue the custom with this much fervor. I began to list all the possible families she could've come from. **

"**It's my 21 birthday and I have yet to explore Minis Tirith on my own." She seemed wistful now. "You must think of me as being childish and naïve." I took my time to answer; speaking to nobility was a tricky process, one that I wasn't quite used to.**

"**No not childish." I finally replied. "Though, if I may be so bold as to say, yes you are naïve. Why would you be unarmed this late? Surely a lady of your stature has had formal training in the art of defense?"**

**There was a small smile in her voice. "It is true, I am proficient with a bow, but I had not taken it fearing that it would be stolen." I shook my head at her stupidity. Of all the things to worry about she chose the most foolish.**

"**A knife perhaps milady? It is easier to hid and more useful when your foe is upon you."**

**She turned towards me, bumping her elbow into my wound once more. I cringed, my eyes immediately shutting in response to the stinging pain. **

"**Oh! I'm terribly sorry! Have I been doing that all this time?" The horror was evident in her voice. Her shuffling wasn't helping with the balance. **

"**Don't worry," I replied trying to soothe her. I looked up at her through my watering eyes. She smiled shakily at me. I returned her smile albeit falsely and looked onward, making sure Legóviel hadn't changed his path with my sharp jolt. **

"**Why are you, a female rider out this late?" She questioned. I grinned at her curiosity but didn't answer. I wasn't up to sharing all of my secrets just yet; after all, she had yet to trust me fully. Needless to say, we lapsed into silence again.**

**Legóviel was tired from his long journey so I let him walk at his own pace. Time passed and we continued up the road to the higher levels.**

"**Anor rises," I commented. "I should get you to you to your home milady," I hinted. She had still not informed me of its whereabouts. **

**She looked downtrodden.**

"**Very well," she replied. "My home is on the sixth floor towards the south side, facing the sea… the Silver Swan." **

"**That is the home to the Prince of**** Dol Amroth," I replied slowly. "Which must make you Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth." Hellfire, I had been riding with the Princess this whole time? It seemed to answer a lot. I groaned inwardly. How could I miss it? **

**She laughed sadly in a heart-wrenching manner, dragging me out of my tirade. "Nay, I will not be the Princess for my father will disown me if he finds I was out of the house." I sighed. **

"**A father should always forgive his daughter" I replied and even to my own ears, my words seemed wistful. Shifting with oncoming discomfort, I opted to stay silent for the rest of the trip. When we reached the door of the Princesses townhouse we were greeted with the angry Princes Imrahil and Amrothos. **

**They stood showing every inch of royalty in their posture. It was evident that they were father and son due to the striking similarities they possessed. Both had long flowing dark hair, tanned skin and stormy grey eyes. Both were garbed befitting their stations and were armed with jeweled swords. Although their faces shown with anger, their eyes held worry and strain as they saw us riding up.**

**I tried to recall the last time I had seen them and remembered that I did not seen them in the war. However I did hear their stories. They fought courageously and seemed to be the picture of valor and honor. Men looked up to them, as did I. They were the Princes who fought alongside them regardless of station, the Princes who fought like any other men. I looked up to them and the good that they stood for. Lothíriel however visibly shrunk at the sight of them. Stopping before them, Prince Amrothos rushed forward and pulled Lothíriel off of Legóviel.**

**"Lothíriel," Prince Imrahil hissed, "explain." He seemed to have eyes only for his daughter, completely ignoring me. Shaking my head at the fate of the poor girl, I turned away, hoping to sneak out of the situation.**

"**Halt!" Amrothos called. "Rider, I command you to dismount your horse at this instant!"**

**Sighing, I slid off of Legóviel. I held back a sharp gasp, as the world seemed to quake beneath my feet. The sudden movement off of Legóviel wasn't a smart move. Never the less, I took in a deep breath and turned around to face him, keeping a firm hold on Legóviel for support.**

"**How can I be of service milord?" I questioned sarcastically. He seemed horrified. His mouth turned into a perfect "o" shape. I resisted the urge to smile wolfishly.**

"**Watch your tone!" he finally managed to spit out. Raising a brow, I pushed off of Legóviel and sauntered over to him wincing as the pain in my side intensified. The closer I got, the more apparent his disgust became.**

"**You smell like an Orc!"**

"**Indeed. Rangers typically slay Orcs that roam the land. It is hard to avoid their black blood as it spews from their wound."**

"**You are a Ranger? Women are not Rangers!" he replied heatedly. Crimson red began to travel up his tan neck as he yelled at me. **

**What a bigot! Trying to calm down, I looked around. I did not want to say something I would later regret. My gaze traveled to the face of his father once again. Prince Imrahil and the Princess seemed to be having a heated conversation. Their whispered argument was almost amusing had it not been for the unshed tears in her eyes and the anger in his. The rest of the household was peeking out of the windows probably wondering about the commotion. Gossip would get around adding to the damage. Shaking my head, I took a deep breath to steady my temper.**

"**I do not speak lies Prince," I replied evenly. "I am one of the ****Dúnedain of the North****." He shook his head.**

"**I have met the Dúnedain. I rode alongside them during the war and no women were in their company then," he replied, steel lacing his voice. His eyes too hardened as he attempted to stare me down. I despised men who looked down at women.**

**Spotting a familiar face, my heart lightened. "If you still do not believe me, point your concerns to him." I said nodding off to the side. Amrothos turned to see was coming.**

"**Aranel!" called Aragorn grey eyes sparkling with amusement, "Where have you been?"**

* * *

><p>"<strong>My deepest apologies." <strong>**The door did not muffle his apology. This had been his third attempt at apologizing. After a **_**very**_** long cleansing bath, the healer at the house of healing was attending to my wound. I cried out as he reopened the wound. His grizzly white hair brushed up against my chin as he examined me. Squinting, I wondered if he could actually see the metal. This healer was by no means a young man. **

"**What were you doing Aranel? It seems as though you pushed a piece of the arrow shaft deeper into your wound." I bit back a laugh of hysteria. Helping the Princess gave me two unwanted things, a deeper wound and an overbearing Prince. The Healer tsked commenting on the "thoughtlessness of children" and began to pry out the metal. Crying out in pain as he dug deeper with his infernal metal contraptions, I silently prayed for another dose of poppy. This pain was unbearable and that lovely poppy infusion was numbing and brought sweet bliss. When he finally finished, he cleaned off the excess blood and began to stitch my skin back together.**

"**You are lucky that the wound wasn't infected," he commented absentmindedly. Deciding to pull my attention of the sounds of my skin being skewered, I focused my attention at the door. A shadow moved along the bottom indicating that someone (most likely the prince) was pacing. When the healer was done he applied a salve and bandaged it. He gave me a vial of flax seed oil.**

"**Take a spoonful every day for three days." He tossed rolls of gauzy material at me. "Re-bandage your wound once a day. How does your back fare?" **

"**It aches insufferably and burns at times. It pains me greatly if I get hit there." He nodded his head but didn't seem like he was going to reply. **

"**No poppy?" I asked. He looked at me curiously, his dark eyes probing me. "For the pain," I added quickly. I dug my nails into my head, cursing my mouth. **

"**No. The pain you feel is to be expected. I've numbed the area so you shouldn't feel much of the pain. Come to me in a week to remove the stitches," he replied slowly still probing. I thanked him, and he walked out of the room, leaving me to redress. After I pulled on the new dress and slippers (courtesy of the lovely Queen) I slipped out of the room and nearly collided with Prince Amrothos.**

"**Sorry," he said sheepishly. I studied him for a moment. His gray eyes were true with sincerity. **

"**Do not concern yourself with such a trivial matter," I replied. "How's the Lady?" He stiffened at my side slightly.**

"**Princess ****Lothíriel is well," he replied formally. "You will see her in the study in a few moments. The King wishes to speak to you both."**

'**He wished to speak to us both?' For the second time in the same day, my curiosity was lit aflame.**

"**Lead the way Prince."**

* * *

><p>"<strong>I refuse my liege," I said. My voice was stony, laced with anger. If it were any other man, I would have been struck for my impudent tone. Aragorn sighed tiredly. His desk was cluttered with maps and scrolls. Garbed in a red tunic, he turned sideways to get assurance from Arwen.<strong>

**Beautiful and as ethereal as ever, the Evenstar was dressed in a tasteful grey dress. As rumor had it, she attended all of Aragorn's conferences serving as one of his advisers. She sat with the poise and regal nature that only the Eldar seemed to possess. Her unbound black tresses, a new vogue in Minis Tirith, shifted as she nodded to her beloved assuring him. He turned to look at the others in the room, Imrahil, Amrothos and Lothíriel before he looked at me again.**

"**The Princess needs a guard Aranel." Aragorn pleaded again. I turned my head down and busied myself with the design on the dress. It was a beautiful dress, the color of the sky on a cold winter day. I ran my finger over the delicate embroidery, work done by Arwen herself. I did not deserve such a gift.**

**"The Princess does not need me, a lowly ranger to protect her," I replied tiredly. I heard Imrahil sigh, he was getting tired of this; we all were.**

"**The man you see before you, now a King, was once a 'lowly ranger,'" Aragorn shot back. I looked up at him. Our grey eyes clashed and again I saw how much I admired in this man. It was the aura he had, the warm and welcoming aura that drew others to him. Indeed, he was fit to be a king.**

"**Yes, but that man is of noble blood. He is Isildur's heir and heir to the Kings of Gondor," I replied tonelessly.**

"**You are of the same blood Aranel. We are both of Elros' line." He spoke with passion. I had to fight myself from agreeing. I clenched my hand into a fist, and shook my head to clear my thoughts.**

"**Maybe so but again, I am a lowly woman and Prince Imrahil's family would be much more comfortable with a man guarding the Princess," I replied looking straight at Amrothos. Seated by his father he was caught unaware. He blushed crimson and looked sheepishly at me.**

**Lothíriel, who was seated at my side, grasped my hand. She had been quiet and subdued for most of the meeting so this had startled me. **

"**No, I will not go unless you come along. You have proven yourself worthy." I looked at her. The stormy depths of her eyes were filled with some small glimmer of hope. Her hand was soft yet held calluses in areas typically found in archers. She squeezed my hand. I turned back to the King, staring at him but not seeing him as I planned out what was to happen. I sighed defeated.**

"**You want me to escort her to Rohan for her wedding?" I asked dully. A smile curved onto Aragorn's face. His eyes twinkled with victory. **

"**Yes. Of course there is a larger force going but you will be charged with being Lothíriel personal bodyguard," Imrahil replied in his rich voice. The Prince of Dol Amroth looked pensive for a moment. "Given the circumstances of present events," at this he shot a stern look at ****Lothíriel****, who in turn flinched violently, "I have hoped that you will be able to provide a closer eye on her and protect her if the need should arise." He stared at me, gauging my reaction. I inhaled deeply and cursed my curiosity once again.**

"**When do we leave?"**

**A.N. Yes I know. A new story 0.0" I can hear all of you now "finish the Vampire Knight one!" but alas, I cannot T.T Too long has this idea plagued my mind. So I have decided to write down my thoughts and see this through… for as long as I can that is. Word 4,497**


	2. Chapter 2: Humans Do Not Fade

A.N.: Sorry! College isn't as fun as I thought it was going to be… Instead of doing my paper, I wrote this… Please review!

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and all prominent names and images featured are the copyrights and/or trademarks of New Line Cinema and the Tolkien Estate and are used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only. The author is making no money only happiness is made. This is unofficial and is neither sponsored nor endorsed by New Line Cinema and the Tolkien Estate. Any references made to real people are intended to be fictional. While some stories involve characters taking their traits and names from living, breathing men and women, the stories are merely imagined. No one claims that any part of any fanfiction is truthful, or meant to mirror reality. This is a work of amateur fiction, intended for amusement only, and I do not intended to cause any disrespect the actual people in any way. The archivists are not responsible for the content of any stories archived on Fanfiction (dot) net. They have neither written them nor individually approved of their content. Fan-derivative works, artwork and fan-created characters are the properties of their respective authors/artists. Please ask the author/artist for permission before using their work.

Chapter 2: Humans do not fade

After acquainting myself with Price Imrahil, I stayed behind in Aragorn's study. The party would leave in a fortnight, after the Prince of Ithilien, Faramir, and his bride Éowyn reached Minas Tirith. We would then all leave together for Edoras and for Lothíriel's wedding.

As I studied the maps, it became apparent that the royal couple was staring at me. When I looked up to confirm my theory, I met the eyes of Arwen. She smiled, but her grey eyes were imploring and seemed to search my very soul. A shudder ran up my spine and I felt rather violated. I forgot how much elves could see, or even ex-elves for that matter.

I turned away only to meet the eyes of Aragorn. He too was studying me but with a less searching manor. No, it was as if he was waiting for me to spill my innermost thoughts at him. Not wishing to disappoint and wanting the wait to be over with, I began.

"Why?" I asked simply. I did not think there would be anything better to ask.

"We are worried for your health." It wasn't Aragorn who spoke but was instead Arwen. Her clear voice conveyed her melancholy. It pulled at my heart to hear such sad words being expressed due to my actions. They continued to stare, expecting an answer.

"I am of perfect health," I mumbled. Being observed in such a way made me feel like I was a child again. It was fitting considering Aragorn was eighty and eight and Arwen was most likely a yeni older than him. I was only a child to them, at my mere twenty years of age.

I fiddled with the embroidery on my dress again, hoping the simple designs could take my mind away from the torture that lay ahead. I despised being questioned. Noticing my behavior, Aragorn sighed.

"We know about the poppy infusion you've been taking Aranel," he said. I swallowed dryly and cursed in my mind. Although his voice was firm and filled with compassion, his posture was hard. I was reminded of my uncle, who took the same stance when talking to a disobeying ranger. A twinge of anger sparked in my heart.

"A little spot of poppy never hurt anyone," I replied stubbornly. It was true that I sounded like a child but I couldn't help it.

"Three vials in one fortnight is not just 'a little spot of poppy' Aranel," the impatience in his voice was rising. He stood up and began to pace, something he had done when he was annoyed. I bit back a smile. If I pushed him hard enough, the matter would be dismissed.

"So I had an extra vial or two," I began "that doesn't mean I have not been working! I killed another group of Orc's just yesterday! I am fine!" I stood up. This was it, he would throw me out of his study and I would have my peace and poppy until we left for the wedding.

"No! You are not fine!" Aragorn yelled out. As much as I had prepared myself, I couldn't help but jump at his tone. He turned and stalked over to me, pulling my hands into his. His hands were burning hot. "Aranel," he began, there was a sliver of remorse in his voice "your hands are cold to the touch." His hands moved up to my hair "your tresses lack the gleaming luster they once seemed to possess," he noted as he ran his fingers through. His hands cupped my checks and he forced me to meet his eyes. "Your eyes are haunted, and your face is haggard, ravaged without proper sleep and rest." I opened my mouth to retort but he cut me off. "Do not deny it…you are fading Aranel," he whispered sadly.

The blood in my body ran cold at his words. True my hair didn't gleam, true I felt cold all the time, yes I didn't sleep as well as I once had but was I fading? I was constantly running on missions, sleeping was not an option, fresh food was hard to come by, and hell a bath was hard to take given the lack of warm water but fading?

"Fading?" I breathed aloud wanting to know if I heard correctly. My legs wobbled beneath me and the world began to spin in a twisting motion. "This cannot be true! Humans do not fade!"

Another set of hands stroked my hair. "I'm afraid it is Aranel. Estel and I noticed it quite some time ago. You have gone through much pain young one. The heart can take only so much. It is quite possible that you may fade." Arwen's voice was filled with sorrow. She pulled me to her chest and began to stroke my hair. A cold pit formed in my stomach. Now more then ever, I wished for a dose of poppy. I wished for it to numb away these thoughts and plagues that raped my mind. "Your fading is not the same as the fading of the Elves but it has the same effects and if it continues you will die. Your father would be upset if he saw you in such a state," Aragorn mumbled. I hissed and launched myself out of Arwen's arms.

"Don't speak to me about what my father wanted from me," I growled. The raw anger and hostility seemed to shock Aragorn.

"Halbarad would have-"

"Please, do not speak his name!"

"Aranel, it's been a year! Regardless of what you may think, your father loved you." Arwen stood and wrapped me in her arms again.

"He did not love me." I stood pulling out of her grip again, panting, and glared at Aragorn. "He sent me away to Minis Tirith! 'Keep an eye out for trouble there Nelly' he said to me. Who would send their child to the least safe of places?" I questioned. I was shaking with anger now and for some strange reason, it felt nice. "If he really thought I was capable of fighting, he would have let me stay by his side. He did not see me as his own child. I was a mistake. Eru knows he regretted taking me along from his dead sisters grave. He is not my father. He is only an uncle, a blood one at that." He used to yell at the other rangers if they stared at me too long and he kept me by his side and chose to bring me along on missions rather than leave me at one of the villages. That changed, as I grew older. None of the other Rangers spoke to me, afraid of his wrath. As I coped for being a lone woman, I needed a father but all I got was Halbarad, the Ranger.

Aragorn enveloped me into a hug and hushing me as I felt tears run down my burning face. Hellfire. When had I begun crying?

I wrenched myself out of his grip and walked towards the door. "No," I mumbled. "I will take the mission but beyond that I will not adhere to your rules." He opened his mouth to protest. "I will cut off my supply of poppy, I am more professional than that." I cut across harshly. "You would not understand the pain I live through. Not while you have your happy ending with your beautiful bride and castle."

"Let us help you Aranel," Arwen whispered. "What ails you? What do you need?" I looked up and met her steady gaze. Yes, there was sincerity but there was nothing that could be done.

"Many things ail me," I muttered dejectedly "and at the moment all that will help is the poppy." They knew that there were horrors that many of us faced after the war. They fought in the war and were rewarded with each other. They did not lose everything as I did. There was no cure except for time and even that was arguable. Poppy was the next best thing, and more convenient at the moment. They remained quiet and didn't call to me as I left study.

I collapsed in my room and pulled out a vial. Taking a swig I capped the poppy once more. I never did say when I would quit.

A.N.: shorter but I wanted to build her personality.

I've always determined fading as severe depression… What are your thoughts?


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